If You Had One Wish
by TJ-TeeJay
Summary: What if Gary's wish of not getting tomorrow's paper anymore came true? Would that really be what he wants? I wrote this one back in 1998. COMPLETE.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
**A big hello goes out from me to all EELs and other people who consider themselves liking Early Edition enough to read a fan fiction story! This is my first EE fan fic story (also the first fan fic story I ever wrote), so please generously ignore any flaws you might find. :o) It is a sort of a 'what if'-story, don't take it too seriously! By the way, English is not my native language, so there might be some mistakes as well... 

I'm also not up to date with the latest episodes (not up to date AT ALL, as I only know the episodes until "The Wall" and three others from the first season, due to some really stupid scheduling on German TV! &§$!) So, please also excuse anything that might differ from the actual events in the series that happened after the first season.

I also wanna say a huge Thank You to Jody Lister who encouraged me to publish this in the first place! I hope you're having as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

Okay, so here we go. No, first this:  
Early Edition, its characters and situations belong to CBS and Tristar pictures. No copyrightinfringement is intended.

--...----...----...--

If you had one wish...

_by TeeJay_

--...----...----...--

**_Chuck's monologue:_**  
_One of my teachers once used to say: _There is only one constant in the world, and that is change._ I never knew how right he was, then. Change doesn't always come when you wish for it. Mostly it comes when you least expect it. And then you have to decide how you deal with it. Sometimes you embrace it, though sometimes you dread it. It's up to you what you make with it..._

"Good morning, it's 6.30 in Chicago on the 24th January and it looks like another one of those dull days today. The temp..." The monotonous voice of the radio DJ was abruptly cut off by a violent push onto the off-button of Gary's radio-alarm-clock. He peered carefully through one eyelid, hoping the world would not depend on his heroic deeds for one day. Just for one day.

_Why me? _was the question he had been asking himself ever so often during the last few weeks. The newspaper had been coming to him for over two years now and he needed a break. Definitely.

But every time he had decided to take one, the stupid paper had done something to prevent him from taking it. Well, the paper of course hadn't actually _done_ anything, it had been him who had done the inevitable. Or so he had thought.

Then, there was the unmistakable sound that he had so much gotten used to over the last months, that he frequently had caught himself missing it when it hadn't been there. "Meow!" and then a faint _Plop_ in front of his door.

Reluctantly, he exited his warm and cozy bed and opened his hotel room door. There they were, the cat... and the paper. He picked it up and tossed it idly onto his table. No, not the cat, the paper, of course. He didn't even bother reading the headline. He would deal with that later, first he needed a hot and strong cup of coffee and something to eat. He half expected Chuck to arrive at his door every minute, but then he remembered that Chuck was on a business trip to New York. _Lucky bastard! He can have a few nice days outside Chicago and I'm stuck here with the whole world resting on my shoulders. _In the meantime, the cat (which still didn't have a proper name, for whatever reason) had made itself at home, snuggling up to Gary's still warm bed, rolling itself like a fur-ball into his duvet.

"Yeah, that's what I call a dog's life. Or cat's, as it is. You want to tease me, do you? Try me," he snarled at the cat, half-heartedly throwing a piece of dried cat-food at it. The cat just lazily lifted its head, carefully sniffed at the thing, decided it wasn't worth getting up for and continued dozing, much to Gary's dismay. "Oh, do what you want, will you? That's what you do all the time, anyway."

Gary was holding a steaming cup of coffee in one of his hands, occasionally taking a sip. In front of him was the paper that already had some decidedly brown coffee stains on it... He quickly skimmed through the headlines. Then it struck him. _Wait a minute. This isn't tomorrow's paper! _The look onto the front page confirmed his assumption. It was dated **24th January**. _What the hell, _he thought. _This can't be right! _He looked again, but no matter how much he stared at the date, it wasn't about to change. He went over to the bed, poking the innocently sleeping cat, so that it woke up with a start. "You! You brought the wrong paper! It's today's!"

"Meow," was all the cat had to offer. Gary wasn't sure how to react. Should he be glad that his innermost wish had finally come true? Or should he be concerned that he wouldn't be able to save whoever was out there to save? _Chuck, _was his first thought. Whenever he didn't know what to do, Chuck had something helpful to offer. Well, mostly it wasn't _that _helpful, actually... But at least he had someone to discuss his problems with.

Hadn't Chuck left a phone number somewhere? He frantically searched his apartment. No use, though. For a while he stood in the middle of the room, trying to focus his thoughts.

Just then there was a firm knock on his door. "What? Who is it?" Gary was confused. "It's me, Marissa."

"Oh, thank God." There she was, a helpful angel in desperate times. He opened the door for her. They both sat down at the table.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, why not."

Gary poured her a cup. Spike had settled next to the bed, gladly giving the cat a wet cleaning with his big tongue. And the strangest thing was that the cat even seemed to like it. It purred loudly. But Gary had no eyes for the idyllic scenario today. Although Marissa couldn't actually see Gary's sour expression, she somehow sensed something wasn't right.

"Gary, is everything okay?"

"Well, uh, yes and no."

"What is that supposed to mean? Come on, don't play your cryptic games with me." She wanted to add something along the lines of _Do you think being blind is the same as being stupid? _but then she thought the better of it. She knew that Gary knew she was **not **stupid.

"You see, I got the paper today, just as always. Just as I was used to. But it's not tomorrow's paper, it's today's."

Marissa lifted one eyebrow, Mr. Spock-style. "That's strange."

"That's all you can say? _That's strange? _Thanks for the support!"

"Gary, don't get mad at me. It's not my fault, is it? And anyway, isn't that what you've always wanted? To let the paper leave you alone? To be just a normal guy who gets today's paper, not having to save everyone and everything?"

"Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself, too. But somehow it doesn't work. Somehow I've got this feeling that- that the paper might be somewhere, waiting for me to pick it up. And what if someone else finds it? What's that someone gonna do with it? Run straight for the next shop, buy the winning lottery ticket? Or make a fortune at the stock-exchange? What if that someone isn't going to change the important things the paper reveals?"

"Gary, you know what your problem is? You're so obsessed with that paper that you can't let go of it. It has become your life. Look at you. You're young, you're attractive, I guess. You've got your whole life in front of you, and all you do is chase people, get yourself into trouble all the time and basically run your butt off for people you're probably never gonna see again, let alone get a _Thank You_ from them. This has become your life. And now you wanna tell me you miss that? You want the paper back, get that life back? Frankly, I don't understand you, Gary."

"You know, you sound more and more like Chuck."

Marissa couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I guess I do. But for once, Chuck is right. Get a life, Gary. Forget about the paper!"

"I'm not sure if I can do that, Marissa."

"So, what do you want to do? Look at every paper in Chicago, just to see if it's tomorrow's?"

Gary let out a sadistic chuckle. "That's the point, I don't know what to do! What if this is some sort of cryptic sign the paper wants to give me. It happened before, didn't it? You remember the time when the cat got sick and it started staying at Eunice's?"

"But this is not the same. The cat's here. And it brought a paper, didn't it? It was just not tomorrow's. See it this way: the cat figured you needed a break and decided to give you one. Why can't you just accept it?"

"Because I can't."

"Now, that's a good explanation! Or what about this: someone swapped the paper in front of your door and gave you his instead."

"Only the more reason to try to get hold of the paper. But for one thing, that person must have been a world-record athlete. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to get to the door after the paper got there this morning. No no no, that can't be it."

"But you gotta do _something! _You can't just sit here the whole day, pondering about where or with whom the paper might be. Come on, Gary, let's get out and do something fun for once."

"Don't you have to go to work today?"

"Nope. Got a few days off."

"Great, that's just what I need. A baby-sitter."

"You're getting unfair, Gary. Just say a word and I'll go."

"I'm sorry, Marissa. I'm just a little on edge."

"So, are you coming or not?"

Gary had persuaded Marissa to stay in the hotel room a little longer, hoping that the paper would still arrive. A futile attempt, the paper hadn't been coming and Gary had the distinct feeling that it would not come to him at all, just by sitting around in his room.

"You know what, Marissa, you're right. Let's get outta here."

"Whatever you say."

Marissa took Spike and off they went, diving into the bustling heart of busy Chicago.

--...----...----...-- 

It had gotten late. Gary had taken Marissa's arm and they were both laughing out loud while they walked along the hallway to Gary's hotel room. They had had a nice day, doing all sorts of things both of them hadn't had time to do during the last few weeks. They had gone to the fun-fair, riding one of the old-fashioned horses on a merry-go-round. Gary had talked Marissa into going ice-skating. They both had been a bit wobbly at first and with Gary's help Marissa had even managed to feel quite safe on the ice. Then, they had been to the movies, munching away on popcorn and coke. Gary had felt a little uncomfortable, as he thought that Marissa wouldn't enjoy herself as she couldn't actually watch the movie. But she had insisted and apparently she had had her share of fun with the film, after all. Then, Gary had taken her to the café that had been his favorite when he still had been at college. After that, they had gone to the horse racing, just as they had been the day Gary had gotten the paper for the first time. They had both bet a little money, though no one had won anything. Very unlike the last time, when Gary had won Spike for Marissa, in a way. But without the paper, Gary was just a regular guy who had to bet on chance and on his gut. And what had it brought him? Five bucks less than what he had before... Though, he had immensely enjoyed himself. The day had ended with a nice meal in Marissa's favorite Italian restaurant. And now they both had a little booze from the red wine.

They arrived at Gary's door. He had to fumble with the key a bit, before he was actually able to open the door.

"You sure I can let you go home all on your own?"

"Yup. I still got Spike, remember?"

"Alright, then."

Gary went into his room but he turned around again. "Marissa?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for the lovely day. It was great. Haven't had so much fun since I broke up with Marcia."

"Don't mention it, my pleasure."

Then they finally parted and Gary went into the lion's dungeon. The lion wasn't there, what a surprise. The cat had fled from the sinking ship. While he got ready for bed, he slowly started facing reality again. This morning's incidents came back to him. When Marissa had taken him out, at first he had been a little nervous, suspecting the paper to appear any time somewhere. But no matter how hard he had tried to look out for it, he couldn't see a single paper anywhere. And after a few hours he had enjoyed himself so much that he had actually forgotten about the paper.

He made a careful inspection of his hotel room, suspecting the paper to lie innocently on a desk or a table. But... no paper. Just the one the cat had brought this morning. He suspiciously checked the date on it again. Still the 24th January. _Alright, _he thought, _maybe the cat _has _decided to give me a break. Why not accept it after all? I guess I could get used to a normal life again. _And with that final thought he climbed into his bed and was dead asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

--...----...----...-- 

"Gar!"

Then there was a loud knock at the door. "Gary! Are you in there?"

Gary slowly lifted his head, immediately wishing he hadn't, as a sharp pain shot through it. Hadn't that been Chuck's voice? There it was again. "Gary? Are you alright?"

Gary uttered a grunt of dismay before saying, "Yeah, I'm fine," silently adding _Sort of._ "Hang on a second." He wrestled to get out of his bed and opened the door for Chuck, who strode in happily, waving a bag of fresh and neatly smelling doughnuts under Gary's nose. Gary, however, was not amused. Actually, how he was feeling right now felt more along the lines of seeing last night's meal for the second time and aspirin, in exactly that order.

"Chuck, get those as far away from me as you can, will you?" He gestured at the doughnuts.

"Well, well, well. Here you think you can do an old friend a favor, and what do you get? Nothing but thanklessness."

Gary had sat down at the table, holding his head, which felt twice the size it actually was, in his hands.

"That bad, is it?" Chuck enquired.

Then Gary awoke to life. "The paper! Did you pick it up outside?"

"The paper? Gary, it's 8.30, I thought you had already fetched it."

"No, I haven't."

"Then, I guess the cat got stuck in a traffic jam."

Gary looked at Chuck with an uncomprehending glance. He definitely wasn't in the condition for jokes.

"Would you mind if I made myself a coffee?" Chuck asked.

"What? Oh no, help yourself."

When the smell of freshly made coffee filled Gary's hotel room, he felt an uncontrollable urge to run for the bathroom. Chuck just cast him an understanding look.

When Gary exited the bathroom again he looked a shade paler than before.

"Gar, you got any tomato juice?"

"You wanna drink tomato juice and coffee!"

"No, of course not. An old trick my uncle once told me. Mix a glass of tomato juice with two tablespoons of vinegar. Cures the worst hangovers."

"Come on, Chuck, spare me your uncle's advice." _There we go again. Chuck's useful advice, _he thought. "Why are you back so early, anyway? Weren't you supposed to stay in New York until day after tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I was. But the company pulled out of the deal, so we gotta go back early. But first you tell me what or who earned you this hangover. This doesn't seem like the Gary I used to know. You haven't had a hangover since you left high-school!"

"It 's all Marissa's fault."

"Marissa? Are you sure?"

"Well, maybe it was the cat's fault, or the paper's. Or even mine. I don't know."

Chucks questioning look spoke for itself, so Gary told him the whole story.

"And you say, you haven't seen a single paper since, except for this one?" Chuck lifted the 24th January-paper up.

"Yup."

"So, maybe the cat's not stuck in a traffic jam, after all."

Gary looked much better, now that the aspirin had finally started to show effect. He had even managed to drink a bit of coffee and nibble on one of Chuck's doughnuts.

"Chuck, where the hell is the cat? It should have been here by now!"

"How should I know? Am I a clairvoyant or what?" Chuck suddenly had to smile to himself.

"What? What's so funny all of a sudden?"

"It's just that you always used to be the one with the crystal ball. The one who could predict the future."

"Ha ha, very funny. You're the most..." Gary suddenly stopped. He thought he had heard something at the door. He abruptly opened it with the words _There you finally are! _already at the tip of his tongue. But when he had a close look, it was only the hotel's cleaning boy, getting ready to hoover the floor. Half disappointed he closed the door again, only to hear a very much more familiar sound just the second the door had fallen into its lock. "Meow." Gary literally threw the door open, and there it was. The cat. And a paper. He grabbed it and looked at the date.

"There, you see, Chuck. The cat keeps bringing me today's paper."

"So, it happened again. There goes my fortune. All the lost opportunities to make money. **Lots** of it. But, no, Mr. Gary Hobson had to play hero. No money-making he had said. No black suitcases with big notes in it. Just play the good guy all the time. Maybe this is the reason it doesn't come anymore. The cat decided you were too boring for the job. Maybe the cat is looking more for the gambling-type. More for someone like... **me.**"

"Do you wanna say the paper comes to you now?"

"Oh, I wish!"

"But why? Why does the cat still _bring _the paper? If I wanted today's paper, I could just go down to the newsdealer and get it."

"Maybe it's its way to show you that you don't need to bother anymore. No more _Mr. Hobson saving the world._ And maybe it is still visiting you to see if you're okay. To see how you're doing without tomorrow's paper."

"Perfect. A feline baby-sitter."

"If you ask me, Gar, just don't think about it anymore. Accept that you're not the guy for the job anymore. This is what you always wanted since that cursed paper arrived at your doorstep, isn't it?"

"Marissa and you really sound exactly the same. That's what she told me, too."

"Well, then maybe it's the most sensible thing to do."

"Yeah, I guess it is. But what if it's not what the paper wants me to do? What if I'm supposed to do something else entirely?"

"Gary, why do you still cling to the paper so much? If it wanted you to do something specific, don't you think it would have told you? I'm not saying this again: **Let go of the paper.**"

"Maybe I had planned to make a fortune with it, after all. Maybe I had just decided yesterday that I wanted to go and get a lottery ticket and win big. To treat myself. To get something out of the whole thing."

Chuck stared at Gary to determine if he was pulling his leg, but apparently he was not.

"Are you serious, Gar?"

"Me? Have you even known me not being serious?"

"To be honest, yeah."

"Alright, but I've had this thought, yes. Why not go out and do what you were so hot on doing with the paper all the time?"

"That doesn't sound like you, Gary."

"Doesn't it? Perhaps I have changed, did you consider that? Perhaps the damn paper has changed me. Perhaps I'm just sick of the whole goddamn business." He forcefully threw the paper he still held in his hands to the floor.

"Whoa, whoa. whoa, go easy! This is getting us nowhere. If you can't accept the whole damn thing, fine! Ponder about it as much as you like. But not with me, I've had it. See you, Gary. Make sure you give me a phone call, once the paper comes back," Chuck said sarcastically and left an irritated Gary alone in his room.

Gary couldn't believe it. Chuck had walked out on him. And he had always thought Chuck used be his best friend. But even a best friend's patience eventually had to wear out. So, Gary fed the cat that was nervously pacing to and fro. "Your damn paper used to get me into trouble and now it still does, even if it's not there anymore. You've been nothing but a nuisance to me ever since I met you!" With those words he offered it a bowl of milk and one with cat food in it. "Do you know that you don't deserve this at all?" He took his leather jacket and left the hotel. He had to go somewhere to think.

Once he had left the hotel, he had started walking. Nowhere specifically, he had just walked. Now, he realized that his feet had taken him to his favorite bench. The one overlooking the river. He sat down and watched the silent swaying of the waves, the glistering of the light on the constantly moving water...

--...----...----...-- 

He didn't know how long he had sat there. Minutes? Hours? He had suddenly become aware of a wet coldness and then he had felt the rain pouring down on him. He quickly pulled up the collar of his jacket and headed for the next opportunity of shelter. Which happened to be a shelter of a bus stop. He shock the rain off his hair and became aware of the old man who lay on the cold wooden bench of the bus shelter. He was covered by an old ragged sleeping bag that couldn't offer much warmth, from what it looked like. It suddenly made Gary realize that he actually wasn't so bad off after all. _Look at you, Gary Hobson. You've got a roof to sleep under, you've got friends to rely on, you've got enough to eat and you don't have to fear for your existence every day. _How stupid had he been? How foolish? Brooding for hours in the pouring rain, about something as insignificant as a newspaper! Had Chuck and Marissa been right, in the end? He didn't know. He just didn't know. Until two days ago, his life had been in order. Well, in a chaotic sort of order, but at least he had known what he had had to do every day. The paper had given his life some sense. And now they, whoever _they _were, had taken that away from him. Had they really? Maybe the paper would come back. If not tomorrow, then perhaps the day after that. Or the day after. At any time, really. No, he was not ready to accept it was lost forever. No matter what Marissa and Chuck might say. He decidedly strode out into the rain and made his way back to his hotel room.

When Gary had returned to his room there had been no newspaper. No tomorrow's newspaper, that is. Gary didn't know to be happy or sad about it. Mostly, he thought he was sad, though. Or maybe he should say _disappointed_. So, he had resigned for the day and had gone to bed early after watching some TV.

--...----...----...-- 

Gary awoke to the bright light blinding him. The sun had come out early today and it had woken him even before his alarm could go off. He risked a look at the clock. 6.21 a.m. _God, _he thought, _don't I ever get some sleep? _But he didn't feel that tired as he had turned in early last night. He eventually decided to get up and get some coffee, but before he knowingly turned off the alarm on his radio. The stupid radio DJ was making him mad every morning... Or maybe it was just that he reminded him too much of the time when he had still got the paper. _It's only been two days without it and I am already pining about "good old times"... _he mused grimly. Then there was a loud knock at his door. Gary suddenly realized he was still only dressed in a T-shirt and his boxer-shorts. "Who is it?"

"Gar, it's me." _Chuck. _Good old Chuck couldn't bet upset with anyone for more than a day. So, Gary opened the door.

"Hi, Buddy. So, what's new?" Chuck strode in, tossing Gary a paper bag he had brought from the bakery. It had become somewhat of a ritual that Chuck dropped by before work and they had breakfast together. For the most part, it was because Gary and Chuck had been old friends, but Gary had had the distinct feeling that Chuck always had a sort of hidden agenda, regarding the paper. Namely catching even a tiny piece of information from the sports page in an unguarded moment...

"What's new? Not much, I guess."

"No paper, yet?"

"No paper, yet."

"Where's the cat?"

"How should _I _know? Hasn't been here since yesterday." Gary unpacked what looked like two enormous chocolate muffins. "Chuck, you really wanna eat this for breakfast?"

"Yeah, sure. What's wrong with it?"

"You're disgusting!"

"Am I? I remember times when you had cheeseburgers for breakfast. Every morning. And you call this disgusting!"

"That was years ago! It was when we were still at college. I can't believe you even remember that!"

"Don't you underestimate my brain capabilities."

"Oh, I would _never _do that. Not to mention your capabilities in Japanese."

"What? How did you know that?"

"Oh, I didn't. Just an educated guess..."

"Got anything planned for today?"

"Nope."

Chuck didn't want to press the matter any further. All he had to say to Gary about the paper he had already said. And where had it gotten them? He decided to let Gary deal with it in his own way. What else could he do? Gary wouldn't listen to him, anyway. They just quietly sipped their coffee together and Gary had decided the muffin wasn't so bad, after all. The clock turned 7 a.m. and Chuck got up from the table. "Have to get to work. Sorry, buddy."

"Yeah, I know," Gary said understandingly.

So, Chuck left Gary's room and Gary was, once again, on his own. _Work. _That was something he would need to do if the paper really wasn't coming back. But he couldn't imagine to be a stockbroker again. Maybe he should look for a nice and quiet job that would just earn him enough to keep his head above water_. Easier said than done. _Especially in a city like Chicago where probably every 10th person was out of work, anyway.Basically, he would have to take what he was offered. But he decided not to bother about unlaid eggs, yet. And where the hell was the cat! It hadn't shown up at all. Was that it, finally? No cat, no paper? Never again?

--...----...----...-- 

Two weeks had passed since the paper had last arrived at Gary Hobson's doorstep. _Two weeks, _he thought. _Seems like it was yesterday_. But, in a way, he had gotten used to a life without it. He had found he even appreciated a life without chaos, without the obligation of being a hero, without getting up at 6.30 every morning. And he had accepted it... Almost. Chuck and Marissa had been right in the end, he had to admit that much to himself. But now he was missing something. Living a life of a free man was good enough. For a while... He needed a purpose to his life. And more importantly, he needed money. _So, I have to find a job, after all. _It was something he dreaded. Going to countless interviews, only to be told time and again: "Yes, this is all very impressing, Mr. Hobson, but we are afraid, we cannot offer you a post at this time." He decided to ask Marissa about it. Maybe she knew someone who knew someone who had a friend who could offer him a job...

Marissa had been more than forthcoming. She was tremendously relieved to see that Gary had finally made it. That he had finally started to get himself a new life, to accept an ordinary life without the paper. And Gary had just had the right feeling, Marissa had organized him a neat job as a clerk with a trading company. And it was an even better job than Gary had been hoping for. But one thing he had decided to keep. His hotel room. It wasn't all that expensive, although Chuck had shown him huge calculations that he would be much better off with a flat or an apartment in the long run. No, the hotel room had something very special, he wasn't ready to give that up just yet. Maybe later. Some time in the future. The cat hadn't turned up again since two days after he had gotten the paper for the last time. Actually, it was something Gary still missed. Not for the sake of the paper but he had always liked the cat, no matter how many papers of yesterday, today, or tomorrow it had brought. He had considered getting a cat from an animal shelter. And maybe one day he would. But now he had to get accustomed to a whole new life. The life of an ordinary 20th century bachelor with a job, without a wife... and without tomorrow's newspaper.

**Chuck's monologue:**  
_Everyone has wishes. Wishes so strong that you even play make-believe with them sometimes. But no matter how much you wish for something, you might be disappointed when it finally comes true. My father always used to say, _Be careful what you wish for... _And when I'm watching my friend Gary, I can finally see the truth in it. Consider this: The next time you wish for something, just think a moment about the consequences. Gary never really did. Or maybe he wasn't ready for them. And who knows, perhaps, one day, life will show up at his doorstep again..._

THE END.


End file.
